


Debris

by Bluemary



Series: Utopia [1]
Category: Watchmen (2009), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Explicit Sexual Content, Hints of Dan Dreiberg/Rorschach, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mildly Dubious Consent, Post-Karnak, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:49:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8697211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluemary/pseuds/Bluemary
Summary: Dan is too broken for Adrian's Utopia. Or maybe he just needs to face his former friend one last time.





	1. Chapter 1: Sam Hollis

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so... I already posted this fic a few years ago, but it was a really bad translation, so now that I'm a little more experienced I'm trying to improve it a bit. English is still my second language XD, sadly not my first, and this story is still unbetaed, but I hope this second version will be better than the first one. Plus, this time I'm going to publish the sequels too.
> 
> There are three stories in this serie, two of which are already completed. I'll try to update once a week and of course I'd love to know what you think about them. Enjoy your reading^^

**Chapter 1: Sam Hollis**

 

The path from his home to the coffee bar is unusually long and tiring, now that he's struggling to walk without limping.

His back hurts at every step – because kevlar protects you from almost everything, but a hit from an iron bar hurts all the same – his arms are sore and the last patrol has left him with a body covered in bruises. It's his left leg which bothers him the most, though, since one of the criminals he fought managed to stab him just above his knee. As soon as he returned home, he had to stitch the wound and now it feels like his whole leg is burning.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much now if it had been someone else who cured him: even after several years of crime fighting, it's always easier to cure your partner than yourself, especially when you only have a mild painkiller and hands which are too tired to be steady. But there wasn't anyone who could help him at home, the night before. There hasn't been anyone for months, by now.

Laurie stayed by his side for a little more than two months. It was a nice illusion of comfort and warmth, but they both knew it wouldn't have lasted. Every second of their relationship seemed to be based on someone else's absence: the absence of Rorschach, who occupied his thoughts in a way that was maybe too consistent for a fallen friend; the absence of Jon, who Laurie mourned in a pained silence. And the absence of a justice in which he had really believed, before Adrian's utopia became reality, before the one he thought as a friend killed millions to save the world and showed him that even lies and destruction could be used to obtain something good.

The secret behind that peace crushed him and Laurie both, stealing all their dreams and illusions away, and corrupting even the little comfort they found while laying naked and pressed together, when they tried to forget everything with the fleeting pleasure of intimacy.

But their two solitudes didn't vanish when they were together. They were both too broken, they had lost too much to manage to build something anew. They almost drowned in their mutual sorrow and regrets, hating the fact that they couldn't stand up again, not even with each other's help. And then, Laurie left.

Dan didn't really try to make her stay, he knew it too well that he couldn't find in her the comfort he needed. And now it has been several months since he started living alone again, in a house that is too big and too silent for just one person.

Two weeks after their breakup, he went to patrol like he used to before the Keene Act. But just like Dan didn't feel complete while living alone, Nite Owl isn't complete either and without Rorschach he feels like he has been mutilated. He has kept on patrolling anyway, night after night, bruise after bruise, because crime fighting is the only thing that makes him feel alive.

He doesn't try to be a hero anymore, because he learned his lesson all too well. After he saw his ideals shattering in front of his eyes, he doesn't aim to a childish dream of justice anymore. He just wants to make someone's life better and to pass the time he has on his hands, so he fights against criminals and pushers and all the violent scum that make the streets a place to be afraid of.

He saw Laurie, one night. Laurie who wasn't Laurie but Silk Specter, while he wasn't Dan but Nite Owl. They stared at each other without talking for what felt like an eternity. At his feet, there were five pushers. At hers, four of them, the rest of the gang. Seeing her again so suddenly and unexpectedly hit him with a nostalgia so intense he almost faltered. It lasted one second, before his mind took over with a cold rationality he hadn't possessed before Karnak.

He and Laurie weren't meant to be together. They had tried it once and it hadn't gone well. They exchanged a nod, before vanishing in opposite directions.

They didn't meet again and the fact strangely doesn't bother him the way it would have done if he were his old self.

_Dan. Grow up._

And he has, in his own way. He left behind all his illusions and his heroic aspirations to accept the pain of a perpetual regret. He lives yearning for a past where things were easier, when he still had his naivety as a shield, when he had a partner, a purpose, and no horrifying secrets to keep. But he knows he can't turn back time, nor can he take back the innocence that has been peeled away from him like an additional layer of skin.

And now the present is something blurred and meaningless, and he isn't sure he can care about a future.

The wound on his leg is pulsating painfully when he arrives at his usual coffee bar.

He doesn't look around. He just sits at the little table in the most secluded side of the room, the one he occupies almost every morning. When the waitress smiles at him, he greets her with a nod, knowing that he doesn't even have to order, since he's been having breakfast there for months, now. Then he lets his gaze wander around, looking at the people without truly seeing them.

Not for the first time, he wonders if this is how Rorschach lived. His world was broken beyond repair and he wasn't able to build another one. Now Dan feels like a stranger in a new world where he doesn't belong.

Everything he knew is dead or gone. The Crimebusters don't exist anymore, Rorschach is a red stain in the snow. Hollis was killed by a gang he couldn't even personally punish. Laurie fled away with her sorrow. And he doesn't have anyone anymore.

There was  _him_ too, once, among the few people he considered friends. But he doesn't want to think about  _him_ . It's not easy, when he is surrounded by the consequences of  _his_ actions, when  _his_ utopia infests televisions, newspapers and the whole city even more than it infests his own nightmares. But after some time, he learned to turn his back to everything concerning Karnak and the tragedy that destroyed the most important cities in the world: he doesn't watch television anymore, he doesn't buy newspapers, he doesn't listen to the conversations of the people around him. He just focuses on everything regarding crimes and owls.

Sometimes he feels like he's just a shadow, standing on the brink of reality without really being a part of it.

His thoughts are interrupted by the waitress, who serves him a cup of coffee and a muffin, his usual breakfast. It's one of the little advantages of being a regular customer: he doesn't have to order and the waitresses leave him alone without attempting a conversation or asking him if he wants something else – and he appreciates all of it, even if, inside of his head, he can hear a rough, familiar voice scolding him:  _never be predictable, Daniel. Not safe_ .

He automatically thanks the waitress and takes the first bite.

_I don't have to be careful here, Rorschach. It's just a muffin._

He can't suppress a bitter smile when a wound that never heals starts burning again in his chest.

Some days Rorschach's loss still hurts like a punch to the stomach, maybe because he thinks he could have saved him. Or maybe because he thinks he should have chosen the same fate for himself.

He breathes deeply, trying to ease the pain. And it's exactly in that moment that another familiar voice reaches his mind, shattering his thoughts. He tenses like he was patrolling the street instead of sitting quietly in a normal coffee bar. But he can already taste blood in his mouth, his hands have already started shaking and his eyes are wandering around, looking for the owner of that pleasant, persuasive voice that was the protagonist of his worst nightmares.

He knows that voice.

And when his gaze focuses on a small group of men sitting at a large table near the counter, he suddenly can't breathe anymore.

He knows that ageless profile, the blond and perfectly combed hair, the light smile typical of who has always the situation under his control but is too polite to openly show that fact.

_He is there_ .

Cold sweat is running down his back, his skin is burning and he feels more helpless than he was in Karnak, when he was defeated without even landing a hit.

_Adrian Veidt is there._

 

He walks out of the restroom only when he can breathe normally again. He's still sweating and feels like he's going to puke at every step, but at least he doesn't tremble anymore. Even if his face is burning hot, the Nite Owl in him keeps his pace calm and controlled.

He still can't understand if he wants to assault his former friend or to ask him how it feels to have killed millions of people. He does nothing, just reaches his table and sits down. He knows all too well he's no match for Ozymandias and he doubts he can make him feel guilt or regret. Maybe Adrian Veidt can't feel anything at all, and that wouldn't surprise him.

The minutes spent in the restroom helped him to think properly again. He just needed an isolate place where he could hide and regain control, where he could accept that in his same room there was the man who had taken everything from him and who, at the same time, seemed to have saved the world.

_And he knows that Adrian saw him too, because before he stood up to flee to the restroom, the billionaire had met his eyes, a distracted glance without any emotions, without surprise, like he already knew that Dan would be there._

Since there's no reasons to avoid looking around, he lets his gaze wander where the counter is. He is as tense as an arrow, ready to meet Adrian's emotionless expression again, but through his cloudy glasses he finds himself staring at an empty table: Adrian has left.

He deflates in his chair, feeling empty and unexpectedly disappointed. He's relieved, but he can't avoid feeling a strange regret, since now he can't attack him anymore, he can't even show him his hatred and contempt.

When he looks down at his own table, though, he tenses again: there's a folded napkin next to the half muffin he didn't have the time to finish. He opens it while his heart is hammering in his chest.

There are three words on it, written with an elegant handwriting. A hotel's name, a room number. Nothing more.

And when Dan understands, he almost feels the painful cold of Karnak hitting his skin.

 


	2. Chapter 2: Daniel Dreiberg

**Chapter 2: Daniel Dreiberg**

 

He chose the evening for the childish reason that when it's dark he feels more Nite Owl and less Daniel Dreiberg. During the night he's stronger. More determined. He can kill.

He doesn't really know why he decided to accept that invitation, but there's something unfinished between them, since Adrian returned to be a protagonist of the political an social life of the United States again, instead of remaining exiled in Karnak, where Dan could have forgotten him. Besides, he is tired of fleeing from his inner demons.

He is dressed in civil clothes but he can still walk as silently as when he wears his costume. The woman at the reception doesn't even notice him, when he takes advantage of the fact she's busy with a phone call to reach the stairs. Even if he isn't sure he can kill Adrian – even if he isn't sure he  _wants_ to kill him – he doesn't want him to be aware of his arrival.

He touches the hidden pocket in his jacket, where he can feel the comforting weight of a knife. It's foolish to face Ozymandias with such a laughable weapon, he knows it already. But the knife makes him less anxious, so he allows himself to be lulled into an illusion of self-confidence.

It's when he reaches the door, with his wounded leg hurting at every step, that his mind gives voice to a doubt which is half hope: maybe Adrian has already left. Maybe Adrian expected him in the afternoon. Maybe his invitation was just a joke, a jest made by the bastard who managed to manipulate even Manhattan. But the door is half open, in what seems both an invitation and a trap.

Dan touches the knife again, then he takes a deep breath and enters the room.

Adrian is waiting for him on the couch, at ease and pristine as always. In his hand there's a glass of wine and his eyes don't betray any surprises when they met him.

“Dan,” he greets him, standing with a gracious movement.

He wears one of his purple suits and manages to be classy and aristocratic without looking out of place even in a hotel's room, where normal people would wear just a robe. Dan has never met anyone who could wear clothes with this color in such a natural way, but he also has to admit that he has never met anyone who could be on pair with Adrian Veidt.

W hen Adrian reaches him with another glass of wine, smiling politely at him like they were still friends, Dan doesn't move, nor does he smile in return. He says nothing –  _and what could he say to the man he thought a friend and who now, for him, is just the murderer of_ _fifteen millions of people?_

He just closes the door behind his back without lowering his gaze.

Adrian stops in front of him, his welcome smile vanishing in a cordial, neutral expression.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” he asks, handing him over the glass.

He is polite, courteous and charming. The perfect host.

Dan shakes his head. He has too many thoughts infesting his mind, his chest is oppressed by an uneasiness he doesn't completely understand and even now he can't be certain of his own emotions.

They stare at each other without talking, in a silence in which Dan's discomfort grows at every second. He knows he can't compare to the smartest man of the world. He knew it before Karnak, when he still considered Adrian a friend. And now, he is even more aware of his own inferiority. He just feels small. Too shy, too awkward, too clumsy and useless and helpless in front of Ozymandias.

For a moment, he wonders how Adrian sees him. He's not flabby anymore, now that he patrols the streets again, but he knows he'll never be able to obtain the handsome, athletic body Adrian possesses. The nights spent patrolling the city, without a partner to guard his back, have made him tougher, more ruthless.

And this is not the only thing that's changed. He smiles less often, now. He shows more than his age, maybe because bitterness never truly lefts his face. And from the last time he looked at himself in the mirror, he knows he looks like someone who has been defeated. The worries, the lies, the pain related to the losses of the last year have hardened his expression and left their traces on his face.

Now, with a glimpse of dark satisfaction, he notices that Adrian has changed too. Even the great Ozymandias has been affected by what happened in Karnak. He is still beautiful, in a way which is not related to his gender; but there are little wrinkles around his eyes and his gaze is more emotionless than it has ever been.

It's this realization that makes Dan speak.

“Why, Adrian?”

The billionaire's lips hint a smile.

“I would have found it childish to ignore our accidental meeting in the coffee bar. It was our chance to have a talk after all this time. Why should I refuse such opportunity?”

Adrian sounds so calm, so rational, so  _normal_ , that Dan wants to scream.

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?”

Adrian smiles again, this time like he was talking to a child.

“You came.”

Dan feels the sudden urge to wipe that smile off the billionaire's face with his fists. He doesn't move for two reasons: Adrian is faster than him, even if he hadn't had a wounded leg. And he knows that nothing he could do or say would change what happened in Karnak.

He can hate Adrian, he can refuse to forgive him for that massacre. But the world still exists, Ozymandias' utopia of peace still holds on, and Dan isn't sure he would really stop Adrian if he could go back in time. He isn't like Rorschach. Even though he feels a pang of self-contempt while admitting it, he can compromise.

“So, are you satisfied? Are you enjoying your peace born from fifteen millions of corpses?” He can feel the disgust in his own voice. A repulsion Dan knows it's both for Adrian and for himself. “Was it worth it?”

Adrian looks at him without even faltering.

“I'm not going to apologize for what I've done, Dan,” he says with his usual, calm voice, and for a moment Dan wonders if maybe Adrian's refusal to apologize isn't caused by his pride or his conviction to be right. Maybe Adrian just can't consider the possibility of having been wrong, because he wouldn't be able to accept the fact that he killed millions of people because of a mistake.

Dan forces himself to smile, ignoring the rage that hurts his chest and almost suffocates him. And it's a bitter smile, like it was born from all the tears that he didn't spill in Karnak.

“Like I could expect it from you. No, apologizing would make you human. And you're not.”

This time, Adrian's cordial expression vanishes, replaced by an impassible face. Just when Dan is sure he has to prepare for a punch, Adrian shakes his head.

“I thought that after all these days you would be able to understand,” he says, with the same voice he used in Karnak, making him feel like he was a guilty, stubborn child who is been scolded by a too patient adult. “I thought you would have grown up, by now.”

Dan moves before he can think. When they were in Karnak, he was weak, helpless, too surprised and disbelieving. But now he is not. Not after all the guilt, the hatred, the despair he has been feeling for the last year. He slams Adrian against the wall, holding him by the collar of his shirt, while a part of his mind wonders why the billionaire doesn't react and just stares at him with his impassible eyes.

“Is that what growing up means for you? It means to say you were right, to agree with a mass murderer?!”

“It means to accept the only way that could lead to peace.”

Dan slams him again, but even when Adrian's blond head bangs against the wall with a low thud, his collected expression doesn't falter. And, for that, Dan hates him even more.

“You couldn't be sure! You didn't have the right to take that decision.”

_If only Adrian showed a glimpse of sorrow or regret..._

In the blink of an eye, Adrian inverts their positions, trapping him against the wall with his hands on Dan's shoulders.

“I was the _only_ _one_ who could take it,” he says, with his usual calm voice, but there is a dangerous edge in his words. “And I did, Dan. I did it because there would have been no humanity, otherwise.”

Dan tries in vain to free himself; the billionaire's grip is too strong.

“What do you expect from me? Do you want my praise? Do you want my forgiveness?” When he takes a breath, it seems like the air is burning his lungs, like he inhaled the smoke of one of the Comedian's cigars. “Do you think it's easy to forget what happened in Karnak? Maybe for you it's been nothing, but I remember that massacre, I saw the debris, the destruction, the pain of the survivors, and I'm haunted by it every single day.”

As it is now, he isn't even trying to remain calm. He struggles again, but, despite his slim body, Adrian is too strong.

Dan watches his face coming closer until he can feels Adrian's breath against his cheek. It's slow and regular, while he is wheezing. A shiver creeps along his back when he realizes he is completely helpless in Adrian's hands.

The billionaire almost brushes his forehead with his own.

“Dan, don't lie to yourself. The millions of deaths, the destroyed capitals... You were horrified, you were conscientiously shocked. But you could overcome this.” Dan tenses while listening to him, feeling like the prey which is being hypnotized by its predator. “It's not because of the faceless people I had to sacrifice for peace. It's because of Rorschach, that you can't forgive me.” Adrian's voice becomes gentler, almost soft. “And that you can't forgive yourself.”

Dan freezes in his spot.

He can't breathe and without the wall he wouldn't be able to stand, because now everything he repressed and didn't truly understand is invading his mind.

_When only Nite Owl and Rorschach fought crime together and it was the most wonderful time of his life. When every night was an exciting adventure and they carried life long secrets in the scars on their body. That bitter nostalgia during the years spent apart, when they went separate ways. The unexpected warmth when he had his partner back. Then the pain, so bright, intense, unbearable, when he witnessed Rorschach's death. A pain that never faded, not even when he was with Laurie, with her body against his own, a body too soft, which was nothing like the hard, reassuring body of his former partner..._

“Let go of me!”

He staggers like he were drunk, while his breathing becomes erratic and his heart starts hammering in his chest. The hands that were holding him still now are gone, so he moves away from the wall, feeling more defeated than that day in Karnak, when Adrian showed him he was able to defeat him and Rorschach both. He can't even lift his gaze from the floor.

Adrian understood what he couldn't admit himself. He faced Ozymandias again, and again Ozymandias defeated him, like a god would do to a puny mortal.

And now, Dan has nothing. Not even the foolish pride which made him believe he could end this meeting as the winner.

Adrian's right hand leans upon his shoulder while he's still trying to slow down his breathing.

“Dan.”

He pushes his hand away with a rough shove, but he's trembling, and he cannot stop.

“Aren't you satisfied, yet?” His rage makes him meet Adrian's gaze again. He doesn't care to show the billionaire his desperation if he can convey also his contempt “I guess you're used to see people in pain, by now. It must be your favorite pastime.”

For a moment, Adrian's expression hardens, before becoming the emotionless mask again.

“I didn't want to meet you to see your pain, Dan.”

He steps back, reaching for something in the small bookcase behind the couch.

When he comes closer again, he has an old, brown book with him. And Dan suddenly can't breathe anymore, because he knows that it is not a book, it is a journal. And he knows that journal better than anyone else in the world.

With the throat so constricted he cannot speak, he lifts his gaze to meet Adrian's impassible eyes, while the billionaire hands him over the journal.

“I wanted to give you this.”

 


	3. Chapter 3: Nite Owl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here I am with the last chapter of this short fic. Thank you so much for your comments and kudos, I'm glad that there's someone still interested in the Dan/Adrian pairing and who appreciates my story! I hope the ending won't be a disappointment.
> 
> Just a warning: the situation could be considered dub-con from both sides.

**Chapter 3: Nite Owl**

 

He can't even think when he reaches for the worn-out journal, but confusion is a good emotion, since it allows him not to dwell on Rorschach and what his friend meant for him.

“How can you have it?” he asks Adrian, with a trembling voice. There is more disbelief than anger in his words.

The journal is dirty and it's strange, since Rorschach never let him touch it in the past, but Dan feels like it's the first familiar thing he has touched in months. It's almost like now he is touching Rorschach, while skimming through the pages. He brushes against the cover one last time, before lifting his gaze to meet Adrian's face again.

“It seems like I underestimated him,” the billionaire says, with a strange glimpse in his eyes. “Before you arrived in Karnak to face me, Rorschach had mailed his journal with all your deductions about me to the New Frontiersmann. A worthy and fitting swan song, I have to say.”

Dan listens to his words with a glimpse of satisfaction. It's an emotion that takes him back to a time when the blood on his protective gloves represented his pride, when the shy and awkward Daniel Dreiberg became Nite Owl and the unconscious criminals were the testament of his will to make the world a better place. Even if it's nonsensical, even if Rorschach's last attempt to reveal the truth could have compromised peace, he can't help to feel better, knowing that even the smartest man in the world can be taken by surprise.

“And what happened, then?”

Adrian tilts his head to the side, like he was observing a disappointing experiment.

“I've got his diary, Jon is still considered a global threat. Was your question really necessary?”

Adrian's voice is patronizing and it hurts him, making him feel like a boy again, a little child who is anxious to gain other people's approval.

Adrian Veidt is rich, has power, has everything he needs to cover up the whole thing. Dan doesn't really need to ask that.

“So you erased what was left of him,” he murmurs, more to himself than to Adrian. He puts the journal inside his jacket, staring at the billionaire like he fears Adrian wanted to stole it from him. “Why are you giving it to me?”

There's a brief smile.

“I don't think you are so fool that you would try to divulge it.”

“That's not what I've asked.”

This time, Adrian remains silent for a few seconds.

“You were his only friend,” he finally says. “I've already read it and I figured you would like to have it.”

Dan doesn't reply. What was left of his partner is that journal. He could find what Rorschach didn't reveal in years of partnership, in it. And the one who gave it to him, the one who has been the first person to read it, is the man who indirectly killed him.

He is still trying to understand how he feels about this, when Adrian takes a step forward and presses his lips against his own. Dan freezes, shocked, while Adrian kisses him gently and without trying to force an answer. For a single moment, everything is still: his breathing stops, he has the sudden urge to flee, to fight and to accept the kiss at the same time, while he feels so helpless in front of Ozymandias that a part of his mind is screaming in anger and in fear. Then, the moment is over and he can breathe and move again, so he shoves Adrian away.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Adrian faces his anger and confusion with the usual emotionless expression.

“I thought you needed it.”

And yes, it's true, a part of him needed it, because Adrian's lips on his own reminded him of a warm sensation, of human contact.  _You're not alone anymore_ , those lips seemed to say while they were gently brushing against his mouth. And it has been so long since his last kiss that now he yearns for some intimacy. For something to save him from his solitude.

He punches Adrian faster than his own thoughts, to suffocate that vulnerable, weak part of him that longs for Adrian's warmth.

“I don't need anything from you!”

The anger that the discovery of Rorschach's journal dissipated is back in full force.

He doesn't have his costume on, but Nite Owl is inside him. It's the strongest, most determined part of him. If Nite Owl was the one who failed, he's also the only one who can fight. And now he needs his alter ego to face Veidt, Veidt's words, the emotions that have arisen with that encounter.

He hits the billionaire again and again, and it's so good to have someone to blame while he's feeling hurt and guilty and desperate. He grabs his neck, pushed by the urge to squeeze it until it breaks. And then, he freezes. Adrian is staring at him with tired eyes that show no emotions or pain, even if he's bleeding from his lips and nose.

“Dan, I thought we already covered this.”

For a moment, they are still in Karnak. Rorschach has just died, Dan can taste unshed tears in his mouth, for his fallen friend and for his own failure, and he can't do anything but hitting Adrian, waiting for a reaction that would make everything fair and satisfying, that would erase the feeling of beating up someone who isn't even trying to defend himself...

He lets Adrian go, panting.

He would have killed him if his memories hadn't stopped him. And maybe Adrian would have let him.

He starts trembling. It's not him, this violent, angered man who is ready to kill. He doesn't want to be that man.

“What do you want from me?”.

And he can hear the desperation in his own voice, but he can't help it. He's been pushed too far to regain his control.

As a response, Adrian's lips search him again.

It's neither a kiss nor a bite, he just trails a small path from Dan's neck to his cheek before returning on his mouth. And all Dan can feel is warm breath and soft lips, a gentle contact which makes him shiver.

After months of fights and punches, kicks and violence, Adrian's kindness wakes a part of him he has forgotten. And he can't move, he can't accept his touch but he can't refuse it either.

Adrian's mouth is on his neck again, but this time the billionaire licks it from his chin to his shoulder, and Dan has to fight to suppress an instinctive moan.

“Why don't you let yourself go, Dan?” Adrian says softly.

For a moment, all he feels is Adrian: a body too close to his own, a gentle touch, a warm breath, a hand that caresses his chest, going down, to the abdomen. It takes a great effort for him to not surrender to this contact.

“Is it another of your plans? A new way to manipulate me?” he asks with a bitter voice, despite lacking the resolution to shove him away.

Without answering, Adrian strokes his hair, elegant fingers lingering on the longest curls before brushing against his cheek. It's just a fleeting moment, but in his face Dan can see the warm expression Adrian used to show him before Karnak, when he thought they were friend. Once, that expression made him feel special, in a childish way.

Then Adrian leans his perfectly shaved cheek against his.

“I have no interests in manipulating you.”

Adrian is hugging him, now, but there's no threat in this contact nor does Dan feel trapped. There's a sigh, and it's a sound so wrong coming from Ozymandias' lips that Dan can't help but tensing and searching for his gaze, to see if he has just imagined it. But Adrian leans on his shoulder, his cheek pressed against Dan's neck, and he continues hugging him without any aggression.

“It would be so much easier if you wanted to understand.” he murmurs, with his hot breath on Dan's skin and his lips brushing his jaw.

“Once you told me you didn't need my forgiveness.”

For one moment, the hug tightens before Adrian lets him go. Dan doesn't even try to react. He's tired, tired of everything. He doesn't have the strength to fight anymore. He just closes his eyes, remaining still against Adrian's body, accepting whatever the billionaire wants to do to him.

Adrian's lips reach his ear.

“Forgiveness is not what I'm looking for.”

Deft fingers begin unbuttoning his jacket, touching lightly the hidden pocket where the knife is. For a moment, Dan almost hopes Adrian finds it, so that this wrong intimacy will stop and they'll return to an easier situation, where they are enemies and not two bodies pressed together, Adrian's mouth on his face, their breaths mixed.

But the billionaire's hand leaves the hidden pocket without a word and Dan is still too confused and defeated to react.

When Adrian pushes him gently towards the hallway, he lets him, reaching an ample, anonymous bedroom. His dizzy mind notices just some details –  _purple blankets, a purple rug, a huge mirror because the great Ozymandias can't settle for a normal hotel room._

He finds himself next to the bed, mind full of this bitter consideration.

Adrian is already too close, but he isn't able to object when the billionaire begins undressing him.

His jacket ends up accurately folded on a chair, then his shirt follows. When he feels Adrian's hands on his pants, he tenses, closing his eyes but allowing him to violate even this barrier. In Karnak and during the last few minutes, Adrian has already seen him more naked than he has ever been. He has already taken away his ideals, his rage, his desire of revenge. It will be painless to lose also his clothes, after that.

It takes a moment for the billionaire to take off his pants and boxers. Then, after a light push, Dan finds himself sitting on the bed, completely naked. He feels so exposed he can barely breathe, but he still can't move, nor can he push Adrian back or refuse the warm and gentle touch of his mouth. He still has his eyes closed, his only defense against Ozymandias and his own emotions.

He feels Adrian falling silently on his knees while his lips brush against his chest and then go even lower. It's just when they reach his groin that Dan realizes he is aroused. He stifles a moan, but the mouth on his erection makes him shudder, giving him a wave of sick pleasure.

Fighting against the urge to reach for Adrian's blond hair, he claws the blanket, biting into his cheek to not make a sound. He should hit Adrian, to erase everything that has been tormenting him for the last year, that is tormenting him even now. But his warm mouth is bringing him to a place where he doesn't need to think, where morality is a meaningless word.

He whimpers, and he doesn't know if it's because of the pleasure or because of the desperation for another defeat.

And then he doesn't think anymore, he just feels Adrian's lips, his almost too hot mouth enveloping all of his throbbing erection until there's warm breath against his belly – and it's in a glimpse of evil irony that he wonders how many times the great Ozymandias has been on his knees to become this good.

He can't stifle his moans anymore and he barely realizes he has his hand on Adrian's hair, trying to make him move faster. He is close, so close he can't even think, he doesn't even feel shame. He's almost reached his climax when Adrian pulls away.

He opens his eyes and meets the billionaire's controlled gaze, becoming suddenly aware of his shameful desire and of his inability of refraining himself.

He stills, without knowing what to say. He can't even avert his eyes.

In the blink of an eye, Adrian straddles him, pressing his own erection against his belly. He's still completely clothed and composed, though, and Dan feels even more shame when he realizes it.

He holds his breath, trying not to press himself against the billionaire's body. He just wants to slide away, to lost consciousness, to find a relief for this sick arousal – he shouldn't want an assassin, the man who killed millions of people.

The guilt is overwhelming, carried on by two familiar voices in his head –  _Shameful, Daniel. Corrupted, weak, filthy._

_Dan, is it so easy to replace me? Did you just need a mouth, even if it belonged to the monster who almost destroyed us?_

While he's desperately trying to send his mind away, Adrian leans forward, until their foreheads almost touch, while his eyes search for Dan's own with a glimpse of concern.

“Dan?”

And Dan really hates him, now, because with his voice has destroyed his attempt to detach himself from this reality.

It's Nite Owl the one who arises from his soul, filling his mind with the hatred he has been carrying inside himself since Karnak. He attacks Adrian with his mouth and teeth, kissing him roughly, hurting him, biting him where his knuckles has already left wounds.

He doesn't care how softly Adrian is kissing him back, he continues biting him until all he can taste is blood, as a testament that even he is human. Even the great Ozymandias can bleed, can suffer, can be hurt, and this knowledge consoles him and gives him a dark pleasure. Adrian lets out a low, pained whimper, and the inner, darkest part of Nite Owl exults and revels in that sound, biting him again while he tear off his clothes.

It isn't a moment of weakness anymore. Now it's a punishment against the man who destroyed millions of lives, including his own. Now, he has someone else to blame, so he doesn't have to blame himself anymore.

When Adrian is finally naked under him, Dan realizes he hasn't even tried to react. The billionaire just lays on his back, staring at him with a too soft gaze, hands reaching for his body to brush against his arms, his shoulders, his face, with a gentleness that heats the anger in his chest.

He bites Adrian again, until he draws blood, before grabbing his wrists to trap them above his head.

There's something extremely unnatural in having Ozymandias so defenseless and at his mercy. And again, that dark part of him can't help but feeling a shiver of sick pleasure at the thought he's controlling the most powerful man on Earth.

He positions himself between his legs, panting because of the anger, the tension, the hatred.

He has never done it with a man, before, nor has he ever done that experience with one of the few women he has had sex with. He just knows he should use a lubricant and move slowly and gently so that it doesn't hurt.  _But he wants to hurt him_ .

He enters him roughly in one thrust, feeling exhilarated, now that he's finally getting his revenge, and nauseated at the same time. He's horrified for what he is doing, so he closes his eyes, but he can't stop himself and, while he remembers Karnak, there's a part of his mind which is convinced that Adrian deserves it, that he deserves to suffer.

He starts moving without letting him the time to adjust, while the sickness in his gut intensifies until he wants to puke.

Then, Adrian softly whimpers, making him open his eyes again.

The billionaire has his gaze still focused on him, in his eyes Dan can find pain, but also a strange emotion and he knows that, if Adrian really wanted, he would have freed himself before everything started.

_He wanted it._

Dan doesn't know if that's because of a belated atonement or because of a sort of masochism. Or maybe Adrian just wanted to offer him a chance at revenge, like a gift.

He stops, his body trembling in effort, while he tries to contain all the violent emotions that are fighting inside his chest.

He wants to forgive Adrian and to forget what he has done so that they could be friend again. He also wants to hate him and to treat him with the contempt Adrian deserves. But he can't do either.

He focuses on his face, recognizing a glimpse of pain in his tense expression but also an unconditional acceptance which hits him like a punch in the chest.

“Adrian,” he murmurs, and then he can no longer control himself. He feels the tears coming up and making his vision even more blurred than it has already been without his glasses, and he silently begins to cry, allowing himself a brief outburst of emotions after all the hatred, the regrets and the desperation he has felt for the past months. A part of him knows what a pathetic sight he must be, how absurd it is to be like that when he is the one who's hurting Adrian, the one who is practically raping him...

A mouth reaches his own, in a brief contact which ends too soon. But then the mouth goes immediately to trace his tears in a warm, consoling touch.

“Dan.” Adrian's gentle fingers brushes against his cheek. “It's okay.”

Again his chest hurts at Adrian's words and he wants to tell him it's not okay, because he shouldn't be having violent sex with a man he was supposed to hate, nor should he find so much comfort in the hand that is stroking his face.

He can barely breathe through the anger and the guilt and the self loathing that are almost suffocating him. And yet, his body is still searching for pleasure and he can't even withdraw from Adrian and saving what little dignity he has left.

He expects a mocking comment, a sarcastic acknowledgment of his weakness, but the billionaire doesn't move and is still looking at him without condemning or despising him.

Following Adrian's fingers, which slide from his face to grab his hips in a silent request, he starts moving again, careful not to hurt him, this time.

Adrian whimpers, but it's not a pained sound since he immediately moves back against him, following his rhythm and hugging him.

For the first time, Dan reaches for his face without wanting to hurt him. He gingerly brushes against his cheek, then he caresses his blonde hair. Adrian bares his neck, without averting his gaze, and Dan can already see the bruises there. He covers one with his lips, kissing it softly like an apology before he can stop himself. But soon, he isn't able to think anymore while he feels the pleasure growing at his every movement, silencing his rationality. He obeys the urge to move faster and faster, kissing Adrian when he feels the billionaire's mouth against his own. His rage is gone, overcome by his desire, by the need to touch and to be touched, to be engulfed in the warmth he didn't know it could be missed so much.

Having someone hugging him, touching him, kissing him is a too pleasant sensation to not basking in it and he doesn't care that Adrian is the one he his holding onto.

For a moment he's not alone anymore.

For a moment he doesn't remember.

For a moment, it really is fine like this.

The pleasure explodes in his body, as intense as a flame and equally hot. He almost doesn't realize he has collapsed on top of the slim body of Adrian, while the billionaire is still hugging him. Dan needs a couple of seconds to collect enough strength to withdraw and lay down on the free part of the bed, without really meeting his gaze.

Adrian has come too, he doesn't know if because of the penetration alone or because the billionaire touched himself while he was too busy trying not to think. Strangely, he feels less dirty knowing he wasn't the only one who had an orgasm.

He is about to stand and leave all of this behind before Adrian blames him for what has happened, when an iron grip on his elbow makes him lie again on the bed.

He closes his eyes, without turning to meet the billionaire's gaze he can feel on his back.

_He should have known it wouldn't be so easy._

He swallows with difficulty, while shame and bitterness oppresses his chest. Now Adrian is going to mock him, to scold him with his condescending voice, just like he did in Karnak. Then, he feels Adrian's forehead resting against his back.

“You have never had the world's fate in your hand, Dan. Nor have you had Rorschach's. Believing otherwise is just self-destructive arrogance.”

The light is turned off and everything is enveloped by a comfortable darkness – it's Nite Owl's habitat, a black balm capable of soothing his wounds and silencing the indignant screams of his conscience.

Adrian shifts away from him, the hot breath against his shoulder disappears, allowing him to calm down, while in his mind are echoing those unexpectedly comforting words.

He opens his eyes.

The jacket is so close to him he would only need to extend one hand to grab the knife.

_He's going to kill him. Maybe this is the reason Adrian wanted to meet him._

_He_ has _to kill him. Adrian deserves to die. He deserves it fifteen millions of times._

Dan closes his eyes again, the though of the knife disappearing into the silence.

One day he will really kill Adrian, but not now.

His excoriated knuckles are throbbing with an almost pleasant pain. His rage is gone, erased by an exhaustion which is so intense it doesn't let him think. And there's another breath which joins his own in the darkness.

For the first time in months, Nite Owl falls asleep in a dreamless slumber.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week I'm going to start publishing the sequel, but for now this is it. I hope you liked it and please know that every feedback is really appreciated! Thank you for reading.


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